


special knowledge holds true (bears believing)

by ididitjustforthis



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: F/M, Maybe - Freeform, Some Canon, better tags to follow, but I'll try to go back and forth, other ships will probably be involved, some made up, story probably Emma POV centric, wordstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26837461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ididitjustforthis/pseuds/ididitjustforthis
Summary: Serendipity. noun. (English) the luck that takes the form of discovering valuable or pleasant things that are not looked for or while looking for something else.
Relationships: Emma Hayes/Clay Spenser
Comments: 52
Kudos: 122





	1. let's start carving our own path (one day it will become a road)

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic for these two. I haven't decided if I want this to be linear or more of a one-shot compilation, but they'll all be in the same universe. I'm doing a bit of a time jump so everything that's happened in the past 3 seasons are canon, but season 4 will air before I finish this (what with my sloth like pace). Depending on what happens I may include that in my story as well. Not entirely sure where this ride is going or how long it will take, but hopefully you will enjoy it!

Heart attacks are rare at her age but if the pounding in her chest was any indication then Emma Hayes may end up being the exception. That’s the only plausible explanation for the rapid pulse, shortness of breath and the blood she could  _ feel _ heating her cheeks. 

It couldn’t possibly be anything else. Certainly nothing to do with her dads rookie. Smiling. At her. Right now.

Absolutely not.

As if the sheer embarrassment of the entire situation wasn’t enough to make her want to fold in on herself, he has to go and stand there with that stupidly perfect smile and that scruffy beard - she didn’t think she even  _ liked _ beards, but  _ God _ .

This is what being a good friend gets her. 

This is what being in the vicinity of Clay Spenser gets her.

\---

While she had enjoyed her time studying in New York, it was nice to come home to Virginia Beach. It’s a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple. Now that summer had arrived, she would be spending her free time on a breezy beach instead of being roasted alive while making her way down the sidewalk like an ant under a magnifying glass. There wasn’t much of a contest. 

And it would be a lie if she said she didn’t miss her dad and brother. With all of them going their separate ways - her to Tisch, Mikey to boarding school and her dad to whatever secret mission the Navy felt best to send him on - Emma wanted that time to reconnect with her family. 

Most of all, she needed the time to visit her mother. 

Those were tear-filled moments as Emma detailed her adventures in the big city to Alana. Telling her how much she missed her as she carefully arranged the small bright bouquet of daisies and forget-me-nots against her headstone. It gave her a small sense of comfort after, despite the crying. These were moments she would always cherish even if she wasn’t sure she was being heard. Though she had faith and her dad - of all people - always reassured her that she was. 

The rest of her time was split between occasionally babysitting RJ and Jameelah and working midday shifts at the boardwalk ice cream shop with Hannah before the two would run off to the beach, the shopping plazas or in this case, a bar.

\---

That’s what brings her to the present

One moment she’s trying to enjoy the bar scene with her best friend ten miles out of town seeing as they’re  _ just _ on the wrong side of 21 and said best friend is prone to questionable decisions with even more questionable guys; they do not talk about the Dirty Duck debacle of 2020. Next, it’s Hannah on the ground in the smallest bathroom she has ever stepped foot in. Each hand is braced against a wall while Emma stands behind her in the doorway keeping her hair from tumbling into the acidic mixture of three passion punches, two silver bullets and stomach bile. 

All this immediately being followed by some jackhole thinking it was a prime opportunity to grope her. Emma had clocked him earlier when he kept walking by their table; late 30’s in distressed flannel and stained jeans, flushed pink from alcohol which only served to accentuate the ginger tinge in his beard. Too drunk to be attractive and too old to be acting on the thoughts he had concerning them. Not that it seemed to stop him. No doubt he was also the reason for the round of shots that were dropped off by the bartender. Hannah downed both of them quickly when Emma refused but they’ve made sure to make a reappearance even faster. Her blatant disregard for the unwanted admirer’s passes looked to have called for a more hands on approach.

That being said, Emma couldn’t be held responsible for the elbow she promptly slammed into his face or the broken nose he was cradling in his hands as a result. His voice was muffled and nasally as he shouted while attempting to stem the blood flow. 

“What the fuck?!”

“Back off, asshole!” Emma snarled before lunging to keep a teetering Hannah from face planting into porcelain. 

The guy shoved himself away from the wall towards her, blood smeared and still dripping down his chin. His sweaty palm reached for her arm, “I think you should be nicer to me you little b-“

A large tanned hand smacked down onto his shoulder before he could finish, gripping tightly before flinging him back against the opposite wall. He let out a yelp as his head bounced back against the wood paneling he had just reared off of. The same hand kept him firmly in place while another jerked him upright by his collar. 

“Take the hint.” A familiar voice firmly ordered. “Get lost.”

The bar stalker seemed to comprehend her mystery helper’s message better than the elbow to the face. She appreciated it greatly as she busied herself resettling Hannah against the wall. Some of her tension was relieved by the sound of his footsteps stumbling away.

“Not that I needed it, but thanks for the assist.” Emma remarked, turning to face the newcomer and immediately freezing in place.

“Shit!” She hissed, eyes wide.

“Clay, actually, but you already know that.” He smirked, nudging the bill of his baseball cap up with his finger as he leaned against the doorjamb across from her. 

“Please tell me my dad isn’t here.” Emma begged, rising up on her toes to peak over Clay’s broad shoulder as if Jason were going to jump out from around the corner to surprise her the way he was so fond of when he would get back from a spin. 

“My dad isn’t here.” He immediately replied, earning him the patented Hayes glare of you’re-going-to-run-hills-until-you-die-if-you-don’t-wise-up ™ . Impressively enough it was still kind of scary even if she was 7 years younger and decidedly  _ not  _ his boss. He held his hands up in surrender regardless. “ _ You’re _ dad isn’t here.”

Emma sagged back against the door while still eyeing him up and down suspiciously.

“What’s your price?”

His brow raised. “You think I can be bought?” 

“Please,” Emma snorted, inspecting her nails. “I could bury Bravo with the amount of dirt I have. You’ve all helped Mikey and I get away with so much crap over the years, it’s practically mutually assured destruction.”

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” He crossed his arms.

“Not even for, say, oreo truffles?”

The beat of silence that followed was telling.

“...I’m listening.”

“I’ll make an entire batch with peanut butter chunks, just the way you like them. And no one will know so you won’t have to share.” 

The team was like a pack of starved hyenas with the way they swiped food out from under each other. Literally in some cases. Emma had almost felt bad the time she had watched Clay distract Sonny while Brock snatched the cookies off his plate at one of the many Bravo family bar-b-q’s. She was too busy laughing at the burly Texan practically taking flight to tackle a retreating Clay into the pool. Not that she was laughing when the curly-headed blond climbed out of the pool. All soaking wet with his thin t-shirt sticking to his - nope! Not going there.

She refuses to revert back to her days of ‘Emma Louise Spenser’. That section of her journal was thankfully short and expeditiously incinerated in their fire pit before she packed up her stuff to leave for college. There’s no way she could have left something so incriminating to possibly be discovered by her dad or worse, her brother. That kind of blackmail lasts a lifetime.

Suffice to say Emma was consoled by the fact that there was no evidence of the most pointless crush she’d ever deluded herself into having. 

She forced herself to focus back on the task at hand. Namely that extracting Hannah from this bathroom, let alone the bar, was going to be a challenge. The aforementioned friend was slumped with her head against the sink, her eyes crusted closed by the heavy application of mascara and eyeliner she had used in an effort to make herself look older. The tears brought on by her retching had lifted the make-up, rivulets of black running down her cheeks.

Emma heaved a sigh at the forlorn picture. “Help me get her outside and into a cab and I’ll throw in a pan of brownies as well.”

“You’re not taking a cab.” He remarked. “I’ll drive you.”

“I’m pretty sure people are going to recognize the flame decals on your car - very subtle choice by the way. That would defeat the purpose of sneaking her home. Also,” she added as she adjusted her jacket and purse strap. “assuming you didn’t decide to go out drinking by yourself, shouldn’t you let your date know you’re leaving?” 

“No date.” Clay corrected quickly. “Bachelor party, actually. For one of the guys I was on Green Team with.” He motioned to the group of men in the back corner. Some were still drunkenly singing and laughing while they gathered around a dartboard. A man with a t-shirt proudly declaring him ‘The Phoque-ing Groom’ stood at the center of them, shakily aiming his dart. 

“You may have been treated to their off-key rendition of ‘Good Riddance’ earlier.”

“Appropriate.” Emma commented dryly. “I thought I recognized the cries for help.” 

She squinted her eyes as if studying his attire closely. “You don’t  _ look  _ like you’re covered in stripper glitter.”

“We wore ponchos to hide the evidence.”

“How resourceful. I’m sure the bride will be thrilled if she ever finds out.”

“What can I say, I’m on a roll with secrets tonight.” He quipped, shrugging. “And while a cab may be more subtle in a suburban neighborhood you seem to think is rife with nightowls, I’m not so sure your driver will be up for helping you get her back out of the car let alone up the driveway and in the door.”

Their attention was pulled to the low groaning noise coming from Hannah as she swiped fruitlessly at the hair falling in her face. “Em,” she slurred, “think‘m drunk.”

Clay gestured to her prone form. “I don’t think she’s going to be mobile anytime soon.”

He wasn’t wrong. Their friends called her “Raggedy Hannah” when she drank too much because like the referenced rag doll she had a tendency to go limp when she’d had enough. She didn’t fight but she didn’t help either.

“Fine.” Emma agreed grudgingly, too tired to let this to be the hill she dies on. 

“Seal the deal?” He stuck out his pinky with a playful smirk.

She shook her head in amusement before locking her little finger with his. “Sometimes I can’t believe they let you be a SEAL.”

“Really?” He quirked an eyebrow, chuckling. “Not even considering Sonny?”

“Fair enough.” She conceded.

Clay gestured down the hallway towards the bar. “I’ll grab Hannah while you settle up.”

Emma nodded, digging her wallet out of her purse. “Meet you at the car.”

She was loath to admit that having him there to muscle Hannah where she needed to go was much easier than the usual song and dance of being the designated sober friend. By the time Emma got outside Clay was leaning against the passenger side door while Hannah sagged against the window in the back seat. “Package has been secured.”

“Good copy, Bravo Six.”

He smiled, stepping forward and holding the door open for her. “Get in the car.”

The ride was uneventful though it was amusing to watch the slight panicked look on Clay’s face everytime Hannah would shift a little in her seat or release a hacking cough. Emma huffed a laugh at the thought. His precious upholstery being in danger will probably make him think twice next time. 

“So what brought on this mini road trip?” 

Emma fiddled with the radio before settling on a station and setting the volume low enough that they could still hear each other. “It wasn’t my idea, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She asserted, glancing over her shoulder to check on Hannah before facing forward with a sigh. “Her birthday’s tomorrow and her mom is planning a dinner.” She explained, picking at a stray thread on her sleeve. “She insisted on going out tonight and I couldn’t let her go by herself. She’s been having a hard time with school and things have been rough with her mom since…”

Since her life was derailed. Utterly and unequivocally changed in what seemed like a matter of moments when Jason Hayes showed up on their doorstep in dress uniform. 

They both knew what she wasn’t saying. 

“Her dad.” Clay swallowed heavily. She could see the muscle in his jaw flex as he grit his teeth.

“Yeah.” She whispered, taking a steadying breath. “Most days are better than others but holidays and birthdays are the worst. Another reminder.”

Emma understood that pain. The way people can leave holes in your life when they’re gone and the struggle to fill that space where they used to be to distract from the void. She still had her own days too; days she felt the loss of her mom so keenly it burned. Time may heal all wounds but they still leave scars. Emma suspected it was a feeling Clay was all too familiar with as well.

She was brought out of her thoughts by a warm, calloused hand gripping her own in reassurance. 

“It’s good that she has you to look out for her.”

“So I can hold her hair back?” She smiled grimly.

“And defend the both of you against handsy assholes. That elbow to the face was a thing of beauty.” He replied, throwing her a lopsided grin. “Jason would’ve been proud. Probably not until after he had the guys head mounted in his cage, but still. Proud.”

And what a golden opportunity to gloat that she didn’t need that concealed carry permit after all. Though it’s one she’d have to pass on seeing as Emma never intended for her dad to find out that she was at a bar let alone being sexually harassed.

“Thank you, again.” At his questioning look she clarified. “For helping with that guy.”

“Not that you needed it.” He joked, recalling her earlier words.

She gave a satisfied nod, settling further in her seat for the last stretch of the ride. “Exactly.” 

The street was quiet as Clay pulled up in front of the Seaver home, killing the engine. Most of the residences were dark, the only light coming from the street lamps dotted along the sidewalks.

Emma and Clay got out of the car, Emma leaning the front seat forward so they could extract Hannah. She wondered again how he had managed to get her back there so quickly without the ease of a door to the back seat.

“Okay.” Clay said, taking off his cap to card his fingers through his hair as he assessed the situation before stuffing it back on backwards to keep it out of the way. “Here we go.”

What proceeded was a ridiculous tug of war in which the rope was practically a human noodle and the other end of the rope wasn’t necessarily being tugged, just dragged down by dead weight. Hannah was a formidable opponent despite being unconscious. After a couple minutes of struggling, a few choice curse words and Clay muttering that they should have covered this in Green Team training, they were making their way to the front door.

Emma fished Hannah’s house keys out of her purse and the pair quietly made their way inside. She led him back to Hannah’s room where he laid her down on her bed before stepping back to let Emma take over.

“Could you grab a water bottle from the kitchen while I get her sorted? Oh and the Advil in the top drawer of the guest bathroom.” Emma asked over her shoulder. 

She removed Hannah’s jacket and shoes before wrestling the blanket out from under her and maneuvering her feet sideways to tuck her in. Clay was back with the water and pain meds, placing them on the bedside table as Emma moved a small trash can next to the bed just in case.

“Good to go?” Clay asked, glancing down the hall as if Victoria was going to emerge and catch them at any moment. But while Hannah’s struggle to cope was apparent more often than not, Mrs. Seaver’s showed itself at night when nothing short of medicinal intervention could quiet down the memories of a husband she could no longer share a bed - a life - with. 

“We’re good. Mrs. Seaver usually takes an ambien before bed so she’ll be out until morning.” She reassured, leading them both out of the room and closing the door softly behind her. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

The two padded softly through the living room area towards the front door. Emma flicked on the porch light for Clay before letting him out, lingering in the doorway as he turned towards her. 

“So,” Emma started as Clay shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “Looks like you’ve already crushed your good deed for the day.” She leaned forward to peak at the inky night sky. “And before the sun even came up.”

“I think this might finally earn me my last merit badge.”

“They have badges for aiding and abetting underage college girls?”

Clay cringed. “It sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“How does it sound the way you say it?”

“Courteous. Chivalrous. Maybe a bit gallant.”

Emma hummed in understanding before scrunching her nose. “I think having to bargain for it may put a bit of a damper on those honorable intentions.”

“I risked my car.” He pointed out. “And the wrath of all parental units involved.”

“True.” She agreed. The less people who knew about this the better. “You can rest assured that Hannah will appreciate your status as her knight in shining armor. Practically a dream come true.”

And there she goes, letting her snark get the best of her. She regretted the words the moment they left her lips. Sometimes teasing can hit close and this was dangerously within range of revealing cards that were held to the chest for a reason. Unfortunately they applied not only to Hannah (in all her boy crazy glory) but Emma as well (because, hello, she’s not blind). She hoped maybe,  _ maybe _ he might have missed it, but Emma knew that was in vain by the mischievous glint in his eyes.

A smile slowly spread across his face. “Why’s that?” 

Emma huffed at the slip, crossing her arms and lifting her chin despite the blush rising on her cheeks. “I couldn’t possibly say.”

Clay made an attempt to smother his amusement. While his time in the Navy gave him a better chance at keeping a straight face, she could still see those traces as he nodded sagely. “Girl code.”

“Girl code doesn’t apply.” She scoffed, trying and most likely failing to throw him off the scent. “There’s nothing happening for that to be relevant.”

“Of course not.” He placated with a smirk.

“That would be ridiculous.”

“I believe you.”

“And incredibly bold of you to assume.”

“Well I wouldn’t say  _ incredibly _ .”

“It’s just an expression.” She insisted.

“It is.” Clay confirmed. “I think there’s another one about protesting too much.”

“Oh, would you look at the time!” Emma abruptly exclaimed, tapping her fingers an empty wrist. “Better get to bed, lots to do tomorrow. Goodnight, Clay!”

He chuckled, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “Goodnight.” His index hooked into the ring, spinning it around his finger as he started away from the door.

Just as he was about to leave the covered porch, Clay stopped suddenly as if an important thought had just occurred to him and pivoted back towards her. “Emma?” 

She paused in closing the door, her cheeks still rosy. “Yeah?”

“You know I would’ve helped you anyways, right.” He stated sincerely, his gaze steady. “No bribe necessary.”

Emma smiled softly at his earnest expression and nodded. “I know.”

Clay let out a breath, almost sounding relieved before giving a small smile in return. “Night, Em.”

“Night.” She quietly replied, shutting the door with a gentle click on his retreating form. 

Emma leaned back against the door, heaving her own sigh. She waited a moment for the sound of his car starting up before flipping off the porch light and putting the rest of the house to sleep on her way back to Hannah's room. 

She was too worn out to think about the implications of what had just happened between her and Clay. Not that it had to be anything at all, of course. He had always been kind and funny and helpful when it came to Emma and the other members of the Bravo family. This was no different. 

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had happened as she crawled beneath the bed covers. Hannah stirred, her eyes cracking open at Emma’s movement before squeezing back shut.

“Made it?” The question came out garbled but Emma was fluent in hungover Hannah. 

“Yeah, Han. We made it back safe and sound.” 

“Good.” She mumbled as she burrowed deeper into her pillow. “Was havin’a dream. Good dream. Hot guy’n a car.”

Emma squeezed her lips shut to keep her laugh from spilling out. “You can tell me all about it in the morning.”

“K.” Hannah breathed, traveling quickly back to the land of nod. 

Emma shut off the bedside lamp and eased back against her pillow, willing her mind to shut off long enough to relax into sleep.

She’d leave interpreting Hannah’s ‘dreams’ and her own puzzle of feelings for tomorrow. 


	2. now I turn the dials (with careful calculation)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretoogjes. n. (Dutch) literally “fun-eyes”; the eyes of a chuckling person who is up to benign mischief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There are some spoilers if you haven't seen the first two episodes of the new season already (aired 12/2/2020). If it matters to you then I would wait until you watch the episode to read this chapter. Thanks!
> 
> Also I aged Jameelah down to fit this universe. I'm not entirely sure how old she is in the show but on here she's about 7-8 years old. So if she sounds younger than she is in the show right now, that's why.

When morning came, the sun shone brightly through the kitchen windows, drenching the room with natural light. Emma was in the middle of filling two mugs with coffee when Hannah stumbled into the kitchen. She had changed out of her clothes from the night before into lounge pants and a baggy UVA hoodie, her brow pinched in pain as her eyes scrunched against the too bright kitchen. 

“Good morning.” Emma chirped, pushing the mug telling whoever read it to ‘Have A Nice Day’ towards her friends approaching form. It had been Mr.Seaver’s favorite mug. A gag gift from Emma’s dad.

Hannah let out a short grunt in reply as she crawled onto the kitchen island bar stool, clutching the mug tightly as she brought it to her mouth. A hand flipping the bird was revealed on the bottom when Hannah took a tentative sip. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt forward as far as it could go before tightening the cords, leaving her hair to poof out around her face in messy tufts. 

“Still not recovered from last night, I take it?”

“What gave it away?” Hannah drained half her cup before dropping her head on folded arms, moaning from the headache and lingering nausea. It was just dry heaving at this point. 

“Call it a hunch.”

Emma topped up her mug before moving to the fridge and pulling out the fixings for breakfast. She and Hannah had been best friends since they’d been able to walk. They’d grown up in each other's houses. She was as familiar with the Seaver residence as her own and it showed as she located the pan for eggs effortlessly, not having to think when grabbing the plates and forks. 

Assembling their meal quickly, she plated the omelets and avocado slices along with a bowl of mixed fruit.

“Here, have some food with your hangover.”

Hannah took a deep breath before sitting up and drawing her plate closer. The two ate slowly, picking their way between the assortment of foods. 

“What do I owe you for the cab ride home?” Hannah asked, nibbling on her piece of avocado.

“No charge. Though I may need to commandeer your kitchen for some thank you treats.”

Hannah’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Who are you thanking?”

“The same person who got us home.” Emma shrugged, trying for all the world to look unconcerned with the direction of their conversation. Hannah wasn’t having it. She dropped her fork on her plate with a clang, all her focus on Emma.

“And that was…?” She circled her hand in a prompting motion.

Emma took her time answering, carefully removing the stem and leaves from her strawberry. 

“Clay Spenser.” 

She nonchalantly popped the strawberry into her mouth as Hannah gaped at her. Slumping in her chair, Hannah’s mind raced as she tried to connect the dots of what she could remember with what Emma had just told her. 

Emma could practically see the light bulb over her head go off.

“My Dream!” Hannah exclaimed. “The guy in the car. That-”

“Wasn’t a dream.” Emma finished, a smile fighting to break through her calm façade. 

“He took us home?” Hannah demanded.

“He did.”

“And he saw me like that?”

“Only most of it.” Emma chuckled at Hannah’s moan of despair.

“Please tell me it was fast.”

“We made good time.” She teased matter-of-factly, cutting off a piece of omelet with the side of her fork. “There were a couple speed bumps but he carried you to and from the car pretty quickly.” 

“He CARRIED me?! Emma!” Hannah wailed. “How could you let me miss it?!” She flung her head back dramatically, letting out a guttural groan.

“It wasn’t exactly planned.” Emma laughed. “Trust me. I was surprised to see him too.” 

Understatement. Emma went through a flurry of emotions seeing him stand there in front of her so casually, the first of which was horror that she had been caught. It was quickly replaced with relief that her dad was nowhere near the premises and promptly followed by the annoying tug in her belly that only served to show she still had an attraction to him. 

Sort of. 

Maybe.

Like barely.

Okay, so sue her, she’s not blind!

Judging by the expression on her face, neither is Hannah as she looked off into the distance in disgust, contemplating never showing her face at team gatherings ever again. She released a resigned sigh before spearing a large kiwi chunk and shoving it into her mouth.

“It’s fine. It’ll probably be a while before we see him again anyways.” Emma knew that was reaching and corrected herself at Hannah’s baleful look. “Okay, so the team is too codependent for that.”

Hannah rolled her eyes before shaking her head, grumbling. “I’ll just pretend like I don’t remember. Not like anything would’ve happened.”

Emma agreed, her gaze idling down to her plate. While Hannah’s experience of the previous night was nothing significant to speak of, Emma couldn’t really say the same. There was a good chance it was nothing more than lingering feelings from an adolescent crush. But the way it felt when he smiled at her…

It didn’t seem as unimportant as she was trying to make herself believe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next Sunday saw Bravo congregate at the Perry home. The coffee table on the backyard patio was piled high with chips and snacks, empty beer bottles dotting the surface. The guys were spread out in folding chairs and the patio couch, a body in all seats but one as Sonny manned the grill as always. His apron depicted the Texas flag, loud and proud with its red, white and blue, a large star laying over the center of his chest.

The mood was jovial as they took this moment to relax. 

Ray sat furthest from the grill, chortling along to Jason’s story. Naima was meeting with other Navy wives for their bi-weekly book club meeting. He quickly learned after asking how it went the first couple times that it was less reading and more a chance to drink wine and commiserate. He felt it was best to stay in the dark. 

Jason sat next to him with his knee propped up, icing it after a fall during their short spin up during the week. Ever the medic and resident mother hen, Trent was between him and the grill, making sure the ice stayed in place for the allotted 20 minutes before he wrapped it in another compression bandage.

Across from them on one end of the couch was Brock, sitting quiet and content with his hand stroking through the fur on Cerberus’ back while he dozed at his feet. An empty cushion sat next to him and on the other side was Clay holding RJ. His small hands fiddled with his collar and occasionally sifted through the odd texture of Clays beard.

The feeling he got from sitting around with his brothers like this was still novel at times, even having been with them for 3 years now. Despite the impression that Ash left on him about the meaning and importance of family, it had become the antithesis of all the expectations he’d grown up with. 

Temporary. 

Conditional. 

Fleeting at best, superfluous at worst. 

The memory of his mother was fuzzy and faded, and while his grandparents had done what they could, giving him the love and kindness he had been missing, they hadn’t gone all the way to Africa to focus solely on raising him. The call to action in this small war torn corner of the world had been stronger.

Because of those circumstances Clay had learned to be a solitary creature. There wasn’t much time to make friends on the mission, people moving in and out with the tide of the conflict. By the time peace looked to be a possibility Clay had been back in the states living under Ash’s rule. It was hard to relate to the kids around him when they had no real understanding of how good they had it compared to what waited on the other side of their comfortable bubbles. But it wasn’t their fault anymore than it was all those who suffered during a fight they had no control over. 

In the meantime, Clay replaced that need for connection with the desire for knowledge. The urge to excel and surpass. Specifically, to surpass Ash and outshine the shadow he left in his wake that encompassed so much of Clay’s life. The one that garnered doubt and dismay from peers and instructors alike before they even gave him a chance. Having Ash as a father was handicap enough for those who would jump at any opportunity to see him fall short. To fail. He had come to look at it as simply another obstacle to overcome.

Clay fought through pain and doubt and bone trembling exhaustion. He overcame, excelled and impressed even those who begrudged his presence with his capabilities.

All of that, every second, brought him to where he was. 

A part of him fought to not get attached to Bravo. Those little pockets of warmth he had been allowed in life had always disappeared, one way or another. First when he lost his grandparents to time and circumstance, and again when Brian was taken from his life as quickly as a candle being snuffed out. Only the smoke of memories remained. By the very nature of their job, it seemed likely that he would have to say goodbye to those surrounding him in ways both sudden and violent. 

It might hurt less if he didn’t care so much.

But Adam Seaver hadn’t rallied and pushed for him to accept the team as his family - the only one he needed - for him to still act the part of the lone wolf.

So Clay gave in.

And he regretted nothing.

Bravo is his family, from his brothers to their own wives and kids. Group gatherings were boisterous and fun and every bit the familial experience that he had always craved for himself. And the moments he had with each of them individually was just as important.

He felt it when helping Jason work on his car or volunteering at the pet rescue with Brock. 

When Trent would pull him aside to share his medical knowledge or ask for his help in figuring out how to perform a new procedure. At first he’d been convinced his place as the rookie was to be Trents guinea pig, until Clay realized he was showing him how to help take care of himself and the team, something that took enormous amounts of trust when it came to the medic.

There were times like now when he would pop in to see Ray and be immediately handed a child that was the absolute center of his brother’s universe. 

That left Sonny. His partner in crime. An unlikely pairing from the start, but now the wonder twins were nigh inseperable.

Sometimes, it really felt like Clay had it all. Even if ‘all’ included Sonny doing his best to match the tune of _Boot Scootin’ Boogie_ coming out of the portable radio set-up on the small table beside the grill. According to the Texan, the cook picks the music, which was unfair seeing as he refused to let anyone else near the grill no matter who owned it. 

But recently, it was as if a wrench had been thrown into the steady stream of satisfaction he’d been coasting. A bump in the road. The feeling that, while he felt complete within himself for the first time in his life, there was still something more waiting for him.

After a string of misguided and severely misjudged relationships Clay had decided to take a step back. There was Stella and her inability to cope with his job, a large part of who he was. She’d tried to swallow the fear, doing her best to smile when he was looking and not realizing that he still saw her when she wasn’t. But in the end he’d been left heartbroken on the tarmac. As difficult as it had been, he hadn’t blamed her. It was a hard life and one you didn’t commit to lightly. 

Clay had faint memories of his mother being on the other side of the fence, the one who was left behind. She hadn’t been able to live with it either, and in the end his already fragile family had effectively cracked. Ash’s carelessness when cleaning up the mess had damned it completely.

After Stella there had been brief flings, company for the night as he kept himself distant from any possibility. But then the bomb happened. Swanny happened. Him scrambling for anything to hold onto when he was shown how far his value and the value of his brothers extended. 

And along came Rebecca. 

She had been a breath of fresh air after everything he’d been through. Looking back, their relationship was about as shallow as a kitty pool, but that made it all the more easy to keep his head above water. It felt right at the time. Simple. He knew what she wanted from life and from him. At first Clay thought she was merely stoking the fires of his ambition, pushing him to do more for the things he believed in. He’d followed it without question and basked in the ease of it all. But while his career seemed ready to soar to new heights, his place on the team was crumbling beneath his feet.

When he finally took off the blinders, deciding he didn't want the shiny future she had painted for him and saw what was happening to him and his brothers, it had almost been too late. 

So when it came to light that NCIS was on the hunt for who was responsible for the letter and that it could cost Ray his position in WOCS, he chose to save his brother and, in a way, himself.

Rebecca had been upset when she found out he’d taken the fall for the letter and tanked his chance at STA-21 in one fell swoop. Even more so when he made it clear that, along with visions of being an Admiral, their relationship wasn’t meant to be either. That much became clear when the direction of his career seemed to matter more than the choices he wanted to make for himself.

Between those two, he had experienced both ends of the spectrum. Someone who tried to change themselves to be what he needed, and someone who tried to change him to be what they wanted. 

Both had failed. 

And Clay was tired of trying to find that middle ground in between.

Instead he focused on mending his bond with his brothers and finding his footing on the path he truly wanted. Ultimately, Clay was happy with where that decision has led him. He wasn’t opposed to being in a relationship or getting married, but he wasn’t actively looking to make that happen. As a result, a weight had lifted when he was no longer faced with trying to find that perfect fit. He didn’t feel bitter or jaded or like he needed to stretch himself to be more than what he was. Clay could exist as he is.

But life, like the tides, was ever-shifting. 

And ever since his buddies bachelor party, he couldn’t help but feel that he had a chance at something good. 

“You lost in the sauce there, Blondielocks?” 

Clay’s head jerked towards Sonny as the attention of the rest of the team was brought to him. Shifting RJ in one arm, he drained what was left in his bottle before leaning forward and plunking the empty beer on the table. 

“Just wondering how much longer you’re gonna nurse those steaks, Julia Child.”

Sonny glared as the rest of the team snickered in amusement.

“Grillin’ steak,” Sonny pointed his tongs at Clay as he readied the familiar diatribe, “is an art form. It has to be done with care and finesse. Anything less and you’ll either end up with seasoned hockey pucks or a piece of meat that’s still mooin’.”

Clay snorted, sitting back in his seat. 

“You could always do it in a pan and baste it with butter.” Brock off-handedly goaded, still relaxed in his spot. “Naima did that once and it was pretty damn good.”

“Well she ain’t here, Broccoli! Anymore lip and I’ll be giving yours to the dog.” 

Cerberus’ head perked up, hoping that something delicious might be coming his way since food was in the vicinity. Always the sucker for the dog, Jason casually tossed a couple chips to make up for the lack of meat in Cerb’s near future. He pretended not to see Brock’s look and instead turned towards Ray.

“Speaking of Naima, I thought she didn’t take the kids with her to book club. She make an exception with Jameelah?”

“Nah,” Ray shook his head, “Emma’s got her all day today for her birthday gift. Said she got them into some kind of restaurant on the boardwalk that does afternoon tea for kids on Sundays. You know how Jam loves her tea parties.”

They all nodded and mumbled in agreement. 

While a lot of kids enjoyed playing pretend with tea parties, Jameelah was wholly obsessed with it. She loved the ritual of setting up the cups and saucers and teapot, as well as the ceremony of gathering friends both real and imagined to partake in such an elegant tradition. 

Jameelah had _begged_ for an actual fine china tea set instead of the bright pink plastic she’d been forced to make due with. The year before, her wish finally came true with the gift of her Li’l Tea Tote. Equipped with real ceramic. Ray and Naima felt they were on borrowed time before something smashed to pieces and their little girl was brought to tears at the loss. But she took such gentle care that they barely had a mark on them even after frequent use.

Jameelah took every chance to break out her most treasured possession, making the guys participate when the opportunity presented itself. They’d all been subjected to Mardi Gras beads doubling as pearl necklaces, butterfly barrettes, clip on earrings and occasionally children's makeup. The last one was easier to sit through if they pretended it was grease paint for an op. Good news is it cleans off easily. Bad news is Ray has pictures. Duplicates. And he hides them well. 

Clay was voluntold for it most, another part of being the new guy on Bravo he suspected. But after bonding with the Perry kids he quickly stopped minding. Not when something as small as sitting at a table pretending to drink tea made Jameelah so happy. 

“They’re having tea all day?” Trent asked with a dubious and slightly tortured look on his face. 

“I think it’s just supposed to be a couple hours and then Emma is taking them to the beach. They should be back at any time.”

As if on queue, the patio door slid open. Jameelah came bounding out, her blue cap-sleeved dress covered in daisies doubled as a cover for her swimsuit. She clutched a small toy purse with a cheerful smile.

“Daddy, I’m back!” She dived for Ray. 

“You are!” He stood up to catch her before impact and embraced her, kissing her forehead so as not to disturb her flower crown before setting her back on her feet. “Did you have a good time, baby?”

Jameelah nodded rapidly as she recounted the set-up of their table. Lace doilies and shiny decorations. The mismatched sets of cups and teapots that were surprisingly fun in a mad-hatter sort of way. The wealth of finger sandwiches and scones they got to fill up on were all stacked in a tiered serving tower and their names written in loopy cursive on place cards. It was everything she had hoped for.

“And then we went to the beach and built big sandcastles.” Jameelah threw her arms wide to emphasize their size. Grabbing for her small purse and quickly opening it she removed an object and held it up triumphantly.“And we got seashells for everybody!”

She carefully examined the shells before giving it to the person they had been chosen for, each one oohing and awing over her gifts before accepting it with a kiss on the cheek.

“And the prettiest one is for you, daddy!” She exclaimed, coming full circle back to Ray. 

“How come he gets the prettiest one?” Sonny called from the grill.

Jameelah shrugged before answering very matter-of-factly “Because then I get to keep it too.”

Jason tilted his beer in her direction “That’s right, Jammie. Always thinking ahead!”

She giggled before letting out a big yawn, her fist coming up to rub tiredly at her eyes.

“Why don’t you go get your bath, sweetheart.” Ray nodded back towards the house. “I’ll come tuck you in when you’re done.”

“Okay.” She agreed, too tired after such a stimulating day to argue staying up. She was halfway to the screen door before turning back as if she had forgotten something. Making her way over to Sonny, she carefully removed her flower crown and held it up to the burly Texan. 

“Will you hold on to my crown til’ I’m done, Uncle Sonny?” She asked sweetly.

“Sure thing, little bit.” Sonny accepted the crown and gestured towards the table next to him. “I’ll just set it right here so it’s nice and safe.”

“No!” Jameelah clasped his sleeve. “It’s a special crown. You have to wear it, Uncle Sonny.”

The air around them was filled with snorts and coughs as Sonny tried to come up with a way to gently refuse. He made a weak attempt, waving his hand in the direction of the couch. “Don’t you think it would look better on Clay?”

“But you’re my favorite.” She tugged his sleeve, releasing the full effect of her wide brown eyes, her lip jutting out.

Sonny sagged in defeat, unable to reject that pleading face. 

“Okay.” He sighed.

“Promise?”

“I’d love to wear it.” 

Sonny leaned forward so that Jameelah could reach his head, gently crowning him and smiling brightly.

“Thank you, Uncle Sonny!” She beamed, giving him a quick hug before skipping away towards the door and back into the house. 

The stifled laughter became full blown as the team took in the halo of white and yellow flowers. The light blue strands of ribbon woven into the crown hung from the back and fluttered as it caught the breeze. 

“Great look, Son! Really compliments the apron.” Clay gasped, trying to catch his breath before descending into another round of cackling.

“Laugh all you want, Rapunzel. We all know who the real princess is here but just remember,” Sonny picked up his tongs again and pointed it towards himself before proceeding to flip the steaks. “Favorite.”

Sonny flicked the ribbon over his shoulder when it blew in his face before giving them the middle finger. The guys erupted into another round of guffaws.

“You should definitely feel honored, Uncle Sonny.” Another voice chimed in above the laughter. “Took her a full 15 to decide that crown was the one.”

Looking towards the sliding door, Clay caught sight of their new guest. A flower crown of her own sat atop her blonde locks. The white flowers and red ribbon matched the ditsy floral dress she wore, the tie at the front cinched the light material at her waist as the light chiffon skirt fluttered around the sun-kissed skin of her thighs. 

Yeah. 

He felt the possibility of something good. 

And it may have just walked in. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma slid the door closed behind her, biting her lip as she took in the picture that Sonny made behind the grill. The bright cheerful flowers were mismatched with the scowl he was shooting the rest of the team.

“Too many options?” Ray looked over his shoulder at Emma as she approached the group.

“She whittled it down to two pretty quickly but deciding between them was quite the conundrum. I believe her exact words were ‘Emmie, I’m having a crisis’. It was very serious.”

She stopped by Jason and pecked his cheek, squeezing his shoulder as she looked at his leg in concern. He quickly patted her hand in reassurance and gestured for her to take a seat.

“Wonder where she learned that?” Ray raised an accusing brow towards Sonny.

“I don’t think I like your tone there, Raymond.” He huffed in response.

“Like it was only one of you. As if.” Emma chimed sarcastically as she made her way to the sofa, taking a seat between Brock and Clay. She had intended to keep a bit of distance between her and the youngest team member, which should’ve been easy as Brock was practically draped over the chair arm with his hand scratching around Cerberus’ neck. But it was hard to do when RJ was determined to get her attention with his little squeaks and smiles, resting comfortably against Clay. 

It was a little overwhelming being so close to him but she shoved it down as she smiled at the toddler. He grasped at her fingers, giggling as she used the other hand to tickle him. Babies could move lightning fast at times, something which Emma forgot as he grasped for the ribbon that had settled over her shoulder. Grabbing a firm handful of her hair in his fist as well he was set to yank but was quickly stopped by Clay.

“Whoa there, tiger.” He held RJ’s wrist still as Emma worked on uncurling his little fingers.

“Let go, RJ.”

Once she freed the strands from his grasp she kissed his fist to show she wasn’t mad. When Emma leaned in to smooch his cheek she felt a calloused finger graze the side of her neck as Clay tucked her hair over her shoulder.

Her breath caught in her throat when her eyes met his. She could feel her cheeks warming from the contact.

“He’s quick. Didn’t want him to go for round two.” The timber of Clay’s voice was low as his eyes darted between hers and the spot he’d touched. 

“Thanks.” Emma whispered, mesmerized by the moment.

“You planning to go out again tonight to meet up with Hannah?” 

Turning quickly at her fathers question, Emma cleared her throat as she took off her flower crown and held it up for RJ’s tactile inspection.

“No, I am definitely done for the day.” She tickled the ribbon along RJ’s wrist before letting him take hold of it. “Besides, she’s got a date tonight.”

“With the frat boy? What was his name?” Jason looked towards the sky, eyes squinted in thought. “Ted?”

“Tadd. And no, that was last week. This week is one Chet Hemingway.”

“Like the author?” Brock paused in his scritches. 

“No relation but he gets that a lot.” Emma rolled her eyes. “And wouldn’t you know it, he’s going to school to be a writer too!” She flourished her hands in front of her. “So, like, it was meant to be.”

“Where does she keep finding these guys?” Trent asked.

“More like they find her.” Emma sighed, relaxing back into the sofa cushion. “This one Hannah’s been bumping into on her Starbucks runs during our breaks. He caught on that she worked across the street and has spent several days alternating between talking to her and staring down her shirt.”

It had been nauseating to see him work innuendos into a discussion about ice cream flavors. She was sure the disgust was painted clearly for all to see, not that he nor Hannah would’ve noticed. Emma shuddered at the possible conversations that would take place tonight. She almost dreaded the unavoidable play by play she would be receiving during their shift tomorrow. 

Every. Second.

“Victoria doesn’t have any objections?” Jason asked with a frown.

“Pretty sure Hannah waits until she’s walking out the door.” Emma shrugged. “Better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission.”

Emma checked the time on her phone. “She’s going to meet him in a few hours.”

If possible, Jason’s frown deepened further when he peeked at his watch. 

“A few _hours_? It’s almost 6:30!” 

“They’re going to an after hours club that doesn’t open until 8.”

“On a first date?!” 

“I think we’re focusing on the wrong thing here.” Sonny remarked loudly as he removed the steaks from the grill and into a tin pan to rest. “The more pressing matter is that she found him in a Starbucks. Is he one of those hippies with the man bun?”

“No man bun.” Emma shook her head with a smirk. “He was wearing a scarf though.”

“It’s summer! Why in the Sam hill would you choose to wear a scarf in the summer?”

“Says the person who hikes through the desert in pants and long sleeves rucking half his weight in equipment.” She tilted her head, eyebrows raised as she waited for a response. She could hear a chuckle coming from Clay but she kept her eyes on Sonny.

“That is a _job_.”

“Which is also a _choice_.”

“Settle down you two.” Ray raised his palms in their direction before focusing his attention back on Emma. “What about you? You got a boy waiting for you at school?”

Clay choked on his beer a little bit and turned towards the arm of the couch as he coughed to clear his throat. 

“You want to know about my boyfriends?”

“Again with the plural.” Jason dropped his head back in exasperation.

“Well, there was this one guy.” Emma started, eyeballing Sonny as he checked the foil wrapped ears of corn. “I think you guys would really like him, especially you, Uncle Sonny.”

“Oh?” Jason’s face went flat the way it did when he was trying to control his emotions.

“This a kid from your art school?”

“He goes to NYU.” Emma confirmed. “But I actually saw him for the first time at an environmental protest. His name’s Goji.”

“Like the...berry?” Trent sounded almost afraid to ask.

“Yeah! He changed his name as soon as he turned 18. It’s his favorite fruit and it helps him to feel closer to nature!”

Jason caught on quickly. He rubbed his hand over his beard before bringing it to rest over his mouth. Ray did the same, propping his elbows on the arms of his chair and interlocking his fingers into a fist over his smile.

“He hates waste so he makes his own clothes. He’s actually got sandals made of _only_ duct tape. AND he’s a reiki master!”

Sonny looked as if he had stumbled into the twilight zone with every word that came out of Emma’s mouth.

“But the best part is-”

“Here it comes.” Jason grinned.

“-he’s a vegan life coach!”

Sonny took a large step back like she had just personally offended him. He raised his tongs to his chest as if to protect himself from her words.

“I seriously considered converting-”

Sonny slammed the tongs down on the table and turned towards Jason while jabbing his finger at Emma.

“Jace, I don’t know who that is but it ain’t our Emma!” 

“-but it wasn’t meant to be though.” Emma pouted as Sonny looked on skeptically, probably halfway convinced she was a pod person. “Sadly, I had to explain to him that not even true love could make me give up my Uncle Sonny’s famous steak tips.”

Emma sighed wistfully as if wondering what could’ve been while Sonny looked awash with relief. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus. Thank you, lord.”

“Have mercy on your uncle, Em.” Jason laughed along with the guys. “He’s delicate.”

“But he’s so easy.” She threw a teasing smile at Sonny.

“For that, you’re droppin’ down a peg in the will.” He sniffed, turning up his nose as he finished removing the rest of the food from the grill. “I’m gonna let you have this extra steak though, but only because you remembered what real food is in the face of adversity.”

“Aw, you’re so good to me.” Emma put her hand over her heart.

Sonny nodded in agreement. “Don’t you forget it.”

Jason clapped his hands once to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright then, looks like the chow is ready. One of you grab an extra chair. Em,” Jason extended his empty beer bottle towards her. “If you grab me another one of these you can have one too. ONE.”

Emma hopped up grabbing his bottle. “Anybody else?”

Multiple hands flew up in a bevy of ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. She nodded, removing a couple more empties from the table and making her way quickly to the patio door before Jason could change his mind. The rest of them shuffled towards the grill with the exception of Trent who focused on removing the ice packs and drying Jason’s leg before wrapping the bandage. 

“I’ll help!” She looked back and saw Clay pass RJ to Ray as she slid open the door. Emma stepped inside and he followed behind her into the kitchen.

Clay grabbed the large case of beer from the fridge and set it on the counter while she tossed the bottles into the recycle. Emma then set about opening the box to pull out the beverages while he fiddled with the bottle opener.

“So flower crowns go to the favorite uncle, huh?” He faced away from the counter to lean against it as she emptied the box one by one. “Gotta admit, I thought I was a frontrunner for first when it comes to Jam.”

Emma leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “I may have suggested it on the car ride here.”

Clay hummed in realization, his lips lifting at the sides. “Kid really ran with it.”

“She’s got the shine.”

“She’s going to go far then.” He reached for a bottle and worked the opener around the cap before popping it open. Emma tried not to pay attention to the play of muscles in his hands and forearms, lining up the bottles in front of him to keep from staring. 

“You make up the guy too?”

“Oh no. He’s real.”

“Ah.” Clay toned, not really knowing how to respond or what to do about the sudden drop in his stomach at the thought of her having someone back in New York. And someone far different to him at that. 

“Mhm. He also dumped paint on me when I passed him in the art department wearing a leather jacket. It wasn’t even real.”

“Not prince charming then?”

“Not so much, no.” Emma shot him a wry smile. “Wouldn’t have gone for a guy like that anyways.”

“Why’s that?” Clay paused in opening the bottles.

“Didn’t you hear?” She gave him an incredulous look, shaking her head as if it were obvious. “Steak tips.”

He raised his brow in disbelief, not buying her explanation. Emma dropped her shoulders and heaved a sigh before giving him a real answer.

“I’d actually like a guy that could survive being brought home.”

“Because of the guys? It can’t be _that_ bad.”

“I had my first date when I was 16. Mom had to talk Dad around before he finally gave in and let me go.”

“Sounds like Jace can be reasoned with.” Clay leaned towards her, clasping his hands with his elbows on the counter.

“I'm pretty sure he tailed us the whole way there and I'm almost certain that I saw Uncle Sonny sitting a few rows behind us in the theater.” 

Clay pursed his lips in thought.

“Sonny would probably do that.” 

“Someone threw handfuls of popcorn at us every time he tried to put his arm around me.” 

“Sonny would _definitely_ do that.” 

“And when he went to walk me to the front door my dad pulled up with his brights on carrying milk.” Her tone was full of exasperation at this point. “The carton in the fridge was still full.” 

Clay couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of Jason trying to look innocent after following his daughter’s date as if it was an HVT. 

“Well, it could've been worse.” 

Emma gave him a dry look. “Really?” 

“They could've broken out the grease paint and ghillie suits.” 

Emma threw her hands up.

“God, you're all ridiculous!” She exclaimed over his chuckles.

Clay gently elbowed her in the side with a teasing grin. “Would you have us any other way?”

She bit her lip to keep from smiling but the one he was currently giving her was too charming to not be contagious.

“I guess not.”

“Besides, you’ll find a guy eventually.” Clay grabbed for the bottles again to continue opening them.

“I hope so.” Emma sighed. “It would be nice to still have someone when my best friend ditches our plans for a date.”

“I’ll be your date.” He offered without thinking and stammered to explain when the only reaction on her face was an arched brow. “I mean, uh, if you get bored or you need someone to hang out with you, like a back up or something, you have my number...” 

He trailed off uncertain. She could be as hard to read as Jason at times.

“Yeah?”

“Unless I’m spun up. Or deployed. Obviously.”

“Even if I want to do a Nicholas Sparks marathon in my pajamas while we do each other’s nails?”

Clay cringed and sucked his teeth. “We _may_ have to compromise on that one.”

“I thought SEAL’s were trained to withstand anything.”

“MOST things.” He corrected, able to joke now that he knew she wasn’t uncomfortable with his offer. “Not everything. We are still human.”

“That is shocking.” She pretended surprise while grabbing three bottles of beer while Clay grabbed the other four. He moved to leave the kitchen but paused when Emma stayed still, a thoughtful expression on her face. 

“So if I say there's a food festival next Saturday and that I'll probably need someone to go with…”

“I’ll be your battle buddy.” Clay promised with a smile. “We'll conquer it one food stall at a time. Okay?”

“Okay.” 

Emma met his eyes, a wide smile of her own spreading across her face. Both of them were excited and a bit giddy. She almost started bouncing in place at the notion.

Neither moved from their spot as they basked in the moment, unable to break their gaze until a loud Texas drawl filtered in through the kitchen window.

“Hey, Tinkerbell, where's my beer? I just about sobered up, you been gone so long!”

Emma shook her head and the two started for the backyard. She wrapped her fingers around the handle before looking back at Clay over her shoulder.

“Saturday it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please be sure to leave a review with any comments, questions or critiques. Thanks so much for reading!


	3. you fill my head with pieces (of a song I can’t get out)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belum (Indonesian) lit. “not yet”, but with positive, optimistic connotations (it is used for tasks/events not yet undertaken or experienced, yet that are hoped to be)

True to his word, the next Saturday Clay maneuvered his Chevy Nova into a parking space two blocks from the boardwalk. Grabbing his baseball cap and sunglasses, he locked the car behind him and started the trek. He and Emma agreed to meet after her noon shift which left him plenty of time to make it to the ice cream shop she worked at. 

The area was filled with locals and tourists as he weaved through the crowd. A gaggle of sounds filled the air. Chatter and laughter and screaming children along with music piping from the speakers on the walkway. It mixed with tunes drifting from the shops that kept their doors propped open with signs promoting sales to lure in more customers. 

Further down, Clay could make out booths for games and multiple lines gathered outside food stalls. The pamphlets being handed out in the parking lot boasted a variety of cultural cuisines. He snorted when he caught sight of a sign advertising fried butter on a stick.

Clay came up on his destination outside the ice cream shop but there was no Emma waiting for him. Glancing around quickly, she wasn’t in the surrounding area either. 

He opened the brightly decorated door and removed his sunglasses as he stepped into the air conditioned store. Half the tables were filled and a familiar employee, Hannah, was wiping down a four top in the back. She spotted him and waved enthusiastically before pointing at the register. His eyes followed her direction. 

There behind the counter stood Emma, and Clay couldn’t help but smile. 

She wore a hot pink ball cap backwards and an equally eye catching apron tied around her waist. Grinning, she bent over the counter to hand a healthy scoop of ice cream covered in rainbow sprinkles to a small girl with a butterfly painted on her cheek. She fluttered her fingers goodbye as the child giggled and skipped happily outside to a man sitting on a bench. Emma looked to the door in expectation of another customer only to see him.

Her gaze shot over to the wall clock before she looked back at him in apology.

“Sorry. We had a big pop and the next shift just got in.”

“There’s no rush, Em.” Clay assured as he moved to stand in front of her. 

She reached over to the display case and grabbed a small cup. Emma scooped some vanilla ice cream into it before adding a red plastic spoon and sliding it across the counter to Clay.

“For me? You shouldn’t have.”

“We get two free scoops per shift. I’m giving you mine.”

“Wow.” Clay gasped with a teasing smile. “I feel so special.”

Emma gave an amused huff and gestured over to one of the tables. 

“Take a seat while I change and we’ll head out.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Clay gave her a two fingered salute before dropping a five dollar bill into their tip jar. 

Turning around, he headed towards a table next to the door. Emma shook her head as she watched him position himself next to the window to people-watch while he ate his ice cream and waited. Caught up in her thoughts, she failed to hear the footsteps approaching behind her. 

“When’s the wedding?” An amused whisper came from just over her shoulder. 

Emma jumped, whirling around to find Hannah smirking at her with a cocked eyebrow.

“Hannah! God!” She placed her hand over her rapidly beating heart. 

“It’s a valid question.”

Emma rolled her eyes and elected to stay quiet. She moved towards the swinging doors that led to that back as soon as the people taking over came out. Hannah, not being deterred in the least, followed closely behind. 

“You’ve been talking about this all week.  _ Gushing _ , actually.”

Emma shot her a look over her shoulder while grabbing her bag and marching towards the women’s restroom.

“I’m making a friend.” She asserted. 

“Seems like it might be more than that.” Hannah snorted. She held her hands up in surrender at Emma’s look before she disappeared into a stall and continued. “I’m just saying! If a guy smiled at me like that I wouldn't have been able to stay on the other side of the counter.”

“They have.” Emma answered dryly as she whipped off her white polo and replaced it with a soft yellow blouse. “And you don’t.”

“That’s different.” Hannah stated flippantly. “But this? This might be the genuine article.”

“He’s one of my dad’s guys.” Emma countered.

“Exactly!” Hannah exclaimed. “Who risks the wrath of their boss to hang out with said boss’ daughter?! No one looking for a casual fling, that’s for sure!”

Emma gathered her uniform and shoved the articles into her book bag. She then looped her cross-body purse over her head before exiting the stall and giving Hannah a stern look.

“You’re wrong.”

“No I’m not.” Hannah sang while Emma moved to the sink to look over her hair and make-up.

Once she was satisfied she turned back to Hannah and held out the bag. “Yes. You are. Please hold on to this and I’ll get it from you tomorrow.”

“Fine.” She accepted the bag as Emma pulled the door open to exit the bathroom. “But I’ll be waiting to tell you ‘I told you so’.”

Emma shot her the bird as the door shut behind her and walked quickly to the dining area where Clay sat scrolling through his phone. 

“Ready?”

“Yup.” He hopped up, putting on his sunglasses and tossing the empty cup into the trash before holding the door open for Emma. She nodded at him in thanks and bit her lip at the picture he made with his aviators and the light blue t-shirt that she knew did amazing things for his eyes. Not that they needed the help. 

Emma swore at herself, knowing that Hannah would be gloating if she could hear her thoughts in that moment. She cleared her throat and swung her arms out in front of her at the festival’s ensuing mayhem.

“Any place in particular you want to start?”

Clay looked around in contemplation and shrugged. 

“We can head that way.” He jerked his thumb towards the parking lot. “And circle our way back.”

Following the path he indicated, the two walked casually through the vendors and stores towards the booth set-ups. Emma was afraid she’d be awkward now that they were spending more than a few minutes together but the conversation flowed naturally. 

She told him all about New York and her friends and all the things that made the city distinctly different from Virginia Beach. Some good. Others, not so much. Clay, in turn, regaled her with tales from past ops. Nothing confidential, but he had her almost bent over trying to catch her breath after detailing an incident where he and Sonny encountered surprise visitors during a training op while they were diving. The Texan had panicked at the sight of dorsal fins swimming towards them when they surfaced. 

“He literally threw me to the sharks.” Clay recounted as Emma laughed. "Turned out it was a pod of dolphins.”

“What happened to ‘Band of Brothers’?”

“I believe his reasoning was ‘every man for himself’.” He revealed with a sly smile. “But to be fair, I did start humming the theme to ‘Jaws’.”

Emma gaped at him for a second before dissolving into peals of laughter again.

Clay reveled in the sound. In the whole moment, really. Watching Emma, her head thrown back and her cheeks flushed as she walked beside him. Her hair shone like spun gold in the setting sun as it fluttered in the sea breeze. He wanted so badly to know if her skin was as smooth everywhere else as it was on that spot on her neck that he’d briefly grazed. To tangle his fingers in the blonde waves bouncing against her back. 

He could almost taste the temptation.

“Come on folks! Step right up and see if you’ve got the skill to win the duck shoot!” A grizzled, middle-aged man shouted from a game booth, tearing him from his thoughts.

Seeing he had caught their attention, the man focused his jeers on Clay. 

“I see you with all those muscles. You got anything else to back up that brawn, boy?”

Clay was set to ignore the taunts but was stopped by Emma bumping her shoulder into his.

“Are you just gonna take that?” She whispered with upturned lips.

“You know these games are rigged, right?” He raised his eyebrow.

“Pssh, come on.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the booth. “I bet a sniper for the SEALs could best a festival game.”

He sighed but followed behind her anyways. The man gave a tobacco stained smile as Clay handed over the three dollars it cost to play the game. 

“You ever held a gun before, son?” He smirked as he loaded the airsoft rifle. 

“Good question.” Emma remarked and turned to Clay with exaggerated curiosity. “Have you?”

Deciding to play along, Clay tried not to smile as he gave a careless shrug. 

“Once or twice.”

“Well then let me give you a refresher.” The man held up the rifle and gestured to all the different parts. “This goes against your shoulder.” He pointed to the stock. “You press this with your finger to shoot.” The trigger. “And it comes out of this little hole right here at the end.”

“Got it.” Clay noted in a dry tone at the condescending explanation.

“You got six shots and four ducks. That’s two extra rounds to get’em ‘cause I’m nice.” His gaze briefly darted to Emma before coming back to Clay. “You hit all of ‘em and this beautiful young lady next to you can take home any prize she wants.”

“Any prize?” Emma questioned the man in awe before batting her lashes at Clay. “Oh you just  _ have  _ to win now.”

The man held out the rifle with a victorious smirk. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Clay accepted the weapon and adjusted the butt against his shoulder. He looked at Emma out of the corner of his eye as she stood there with her hands folded in front of her mouth. To anyone else it looked as though she was eagerly anticipating the outcome, but he knew it was in an effort to keep herself from laughing. 

She wiggled her brows at him and Clay smiled, nodding to the man that he was ready. The booth worker pressed a button which sent the ducks oscillating back and forth. Music blared through the speakers overhead and the lights lining the gallery flashed on and off. A good distraction for any participant, but Clay’s finely honed focus was locked on his targets. In quick succession, he lined up each shot and knocked every duck down in a matter of seconds. When he was done, Clay dropped the rifle from his shoulder to admire his work before setting the weapon down on the counter and shooting a closed-lip grin at the now annoyed game master. 

“You won!” Emma jumped up and down, clapping excitedly.

The man harrumphed, clearly having been beaten literally and figuratively at his own game. He placed the rifle down behind the counter and grabbed a long metal rod with a hook on the end.

“Only once or twice, huh?”

Clay gave him a sharp, toothy smile. “I hunt a lot.”

He gave him a baleful look before turning to Emma and gesturing at the plethora of stuffed animals hanging from the metal bars on the ceiling. 

“Take your pick.” He said impatiently. 

“Hmm, so many choices.” She tapped her finger against her chin in contemplation. Her eyes grazed slowly over the selections before they caught on one stuffed animal in particular. She smiled wide, pointing. “That one!”

The man hooked the rod into the tag of a seal plush and lowered it for Emma to grab.

“Congratulations.” He glowered, upset that he wouldn’t be able to con them into forking over more money.

Emma hugged it to her chest tightly. 

“I’ll cherish it forever.” She promised. 

The man wordlessly moved down the booth to another customer who decided to try their luck after seeing Clay’s effortless success. Clay turned to Emma, who had her nose and mouth buried in the soft fur on top of the seal's head while she looked up at him through her long lashes. Her blue eyes sparkled in amusement.

“Guess I’m more than just a pretty face after all.”

Emma giggled and wove an arm through his to pull him towards the food stalls as he smiled down at her. 

“Come on. All this excitement has made me hungry.”

The two hit several stalls, accepting samples of fried jambalaya and hummus fries. They helped themselves to kebabs and cheese curds and shared a giant pretzel. The fried butter remained a mystery, Clay citing that he would already have to work double time at the gym to burn off all the food without worrying about his arteries. Instead they grabbed a serving of gelato and made their way to a bench overlooking the waves. The sky was painted in streaks of oranges, pinks and purples as the sun crawled slowly beneath the horizon. Emma put the seal plush on the seat between them as they enjoyed dessert and conversation. 

"Okay, what’s one of the grossest things that’s ever happened to you?” Emma inquired as she swirled her spoon in her chocolate gelato. 

“Easy.” Clay smiled. “Did you dad ever tell you about BUD/s?”

She thought for a moment before shaking her head. 

“Not really.”

Clay nodded and explained.

“There’s this evolution, a phase, called surf torture. It’s when-”

“They make you lay down in the cold surf until you’re almost hypothermic.” 

Clay paused for a moment.

“I thought he didn’t talk about it?” He raised his brow.

“Internet.” Emma shrugged before urging him to continue. “What’s so gross about being cold?”

“Well as you know,  _ from the internet,  _ you can only get up for three reasons: they pull you when you’re close to hypothermic, the instructor decides to let you out, or you decide to ring the bell.” Emma nodded along, familiar. “What the internet probably doesn’t tell you is that ‘no breaks’’ includes not being able to get up to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh God.”

“Especially,” Clay went on, a smile building at Emma’s grimace. “When you’re laying in the world’s biggest toilet.”

“I don’t like where this is going.”

“ So there you are, trying to think of  _ anything  _ to distract from how cold it is, when all the sudden you hear someone next to you yell out ‘I’M SORRY!’ and that’s when it happens.”

“I’m regretting choosing chocolate.”

“ Yup! The surf pushes it right over you.” He laughed 

Emma groaned at the mental image and looked down at her chocolate gelato in disgust. Clay gave her a cheeky smile and held out his pink strawberry flavored choice.

“Trade?”

“Yes, please.” She gratefully switched desserts. Emma shook her head at his amusement but knew she didn’t have a leg to stand on. She was the one who decided to ask. 

They were both silent for a few moments as they stared out over the ocean before she broke the silence with another question. 

“Do you ever regret becoming a SEAL?” Emma asked quietly. “Or wish you’d chosen something else?”

“No.” He answered quickly before stopping to think. “Not really anyways.” Clay shook his head looking down at his hands. “I love my job and I’m proud to be worthy of serving beside my brothers. I can’t imagine being anything else.”

Clay had been told by many operators, active and retired, that once you answer the call, when you enter the pipeline and go through training and get a taste for the life, you can’t do anything else. Nothing could come close. He knew that rang true for himself and many other team guys, including the members of Bravo. 

Even so, as Emma looked at Clay she sensed a hint of conflict. “But?”

“But…there’s always a cost. A lot of the time it ends up being relationships.” He answered honestly, turning to her with a grim smile. “You know. You’ve been in it your whole life. It’s a lot to ask of someone to choose this.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“Sometimes.” Clay shrugged, his eyes drifting to the side. “And sometimes you get lucky.”

Emma pursed her mouth at his answer before responding.

“I don’t think it’s luck.” She disagreed. He snorted from skepticism. The statistics leaned heavily in his favor that getting to have the job and a good family life outside of it was more of a fluke than anything else. 

“What else could it be?” 

Emma lifted her chin as she looked him straight in the eyes, unwilling to let him carry a belief that weighed so heavily. Especially when she knew it wasn’t true.   


“Finding someone who chooses you.” She stated with absolute certainty. “But you have to choose them too. You have to choose to bring all of yourself back when you come home. Every part. Not just your body.” 

“Not so easy.”

“Not so hard.” She fired back. 

Clay’s eyes shot to hers at the familiar words. Some of the last he ever heard from a person who had been a cornerstone for the life he built with Bravo. “I grew up hearing that too.” Emma smiled. “If you want to make it work and both of you are all in, all the time, you’ll find a way. Luck has nothing to do with it.”

It may seem an idealistic and romantic notion, but for Emma, there was never any doubt that someone was out there for everyone. SEALs included. But when pride and obstinacy perpetuated the same mistakes, the cycle of heartbreak was a wheel that continued to spin without ever showing signs of stopping. 

She had witnessed it first hand with her parents. There was never any doubt about her father’s love for his family or even her parents’ love for each other. But Jason had let the job consume him. He chose to leave bits of himself behind with every mission and deployment, refusing to let anyone share in his burdens or help him battle the demons that followed him home. It chipped away at his relationship until the chasm between them became too far to traverse. Alana loved Jason to the very end, even after the separation. But she couldn’t fight for her husband when the opponent was Jason himself. 

That realization came to her father after her mother died. By that point, it was too late. 

Clay nodded slowly, taking her words to heart. He knew what it was like to miss someone who was standing right in front of you. Thinking back on the experiences he’s had in the past, being all in himself and then being the one to want out, he knew there was validity in what Emma was saying. It didn’t make the search less daunting, but it at least felt possible. 

A small, soft hand wrapped around his. Clay’s eyes trailed up her arm, past her shoulder to look into the blue orbs gazing back at him, full of reassurance.

“You’re one of the good ones, Clay Spenser, and you have so much to offer. I  _ know _ you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

He almost felt stunned by her statement. Even more so when he realized that he actually believed her. Clay flipped his palm over to curl his fingers around hers and squeezed back in gratitude. 

“Thank you, Emma.” He murmured, his thumb stroking over the smooth skin on the back of her hand.

Emma nodded, not needing to say anything else, but she let her hair fall into her face a bit as a light blush bloomed on her cheeks from the contact she had initiated. The two sat back on the bench to enjoy the rest of their treat and each other’s company while the stars began to twinkle in the now dark sky. 

As the booths around them started shutting down and people began to leave, Clay offered to walk Emma to her car before they went their separate ways. They melted into the crowd of families and beachgoers who were leaving before the boardwalk nightlife began and the drunks came out in force. Every now and then, he would wrap his hand lightly around her elbow or place it at the small of her back to make sure they stayed together as the people around them funneled in tighter down the shop walkway.

Deciding to throw caution to the wind after almost being swallowed by the crowd again, Emma clutched the stuffed seal to her chest and wrapped her hand once more around Clay’s. He glanced back briefly in surprise before giving her a small, pleased smile. Clay reeled her in close behind him as he navigated them out of the hustle and bustle. 

They reluctantly released their grasp on each other as they reached her car. Emma unlocked the door and tossed her purse and the prize plush into the passenger seat before turning back to Clay. Taking yet another chance in such a short period of time, Emma wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Thank you for today.” She let her head rest against his shoulder as he returned her embrace. Emma felt Clay’s lips graze her head and wanted to sink further into his hold. The slight spice of his cologne and the warm, solid feel of him against her was almost intoxicating. 

“Anytime, Em.” He pulled back and they exchanged shy smiles. 

Their arms fell away from each other as she took a step back to her car door, moving to get in. She placed one foot in the driver’s side before looking back at him.

“Goodnight, Clay.” She smiled, her tone soft.

“Night, Emma.” He returned, moving back to the sidewalk and sticking his hands in his pockets as if to smother the urge he had to pull her close again. Clay watched her pull out of the spot and wave at him before she drove out of the parking lot to make her way home.

He spent the walk to his car and a majority of the drive to his apartment wondering what he was going to do about all the feelings she stirred up inside him. As Clay crawled into bed, his phone pinged with the notification of a text. Groaning, he reached for it, hoping he wasn’t getting called back in before he could get a couple hours of sleep. His face split in a grin as he read the message.

**_Emma Hayes_ ** _ : Just wanted to let you know that I made it home safe and to thank you again for coming with me today. I had a lot of fun. :D _

**_Clay Spenser_ ** _ : Made it home too. I had a great time today! _

He hesitated for a moment before continuing his response. __

_ We should do this again soon. _

Clay pressed send and watched nervously as the dots indicating she was typing appeared and disappeared several times before he finally received a reply.

**_Emma Hayes_ ** _ : I'd like that. _

He let out the breath he’d been holding in a relieved gust, before collapsing back onto his pillow and grinning at the ceiling. Clay wasn’t sure where the path he was on with Emma was going to lead him. But as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, he knew he was content to enjoy the journey of finding out with her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to happen!
> 
> Clay's story is actually one I heard from a retired SEAL on tiktok who sometimes talks about his time in BUD/s. This story is made even worse when you find out that the ocean water itself is contaminated and it causes multiple people to get diarrhea DURING TRAINING from contracting VGE when ingesting it. It's gross and horrible and you're welcome. 
> 
> Be sure to leave a review if you liked my story or if you have any feedback you'd like to give. Thank you all so much for reading!


	4. we should get jerseys (cause we make a good team)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acaronar. v. (Catalan) to tenderly pull or draw someone closer - to hold, as for affection, comfort or warmth; to fondle, to caress; to embrace, to protect

Clay and Emma rapidly became regular fixtures in each other’s lives. What started out as finding someone to fill in for Hannah when she was too busy chasing after summer flings turned into them being nearly attached at the hip. The two no longer felt the need to find reasons to spend time together.

He had become a regular at the creamery with how many times he’s gone there to pick up Emma after her shift. Hannah so often watches her movements when he’s present, chin propped in hand while being studiously ignored by Emma. Though she’s no longer as vehement in her denial, Emma still refuses to label what exactly is going on between her and Clay.

The same can be said for the rest of the Bravo family, Jason especially. He’s never outwardly commented on the new found closeness between their youngest team member and his daughter, but he wasn’t the only one shooting curious looks at their obvious tendency to gravitate towards each other. Emma was quick to ask after Clay when Jason came home from missions and where he was during team gatherings. Clay was more subtle in his actions but there was no denying the way his eyes would search the room until they found Emma. He would follow the path to her not long after. 

But it wasn’t just when Bravo was gathered at his house that the two huddled together. Almost every time Emma would wave goodbye on her way out the door, Clay was waiting on the other side. 

By nature of his job, it was no surprise that Jason missed a lot when it came to his kids' lives growing up. Now that they were both almost adults living away from home, he felt like he was having to learn their tells all over again. But he saw the way his daughter bounced and smiled when Spenser came around. He’d seen a little of what she was like with the other boys she dated in the past, but it had never looked anything like this. Not even close. 

When it came to Bravo 6, there seemed to be a level of calm that none of them had ever seen before. Clay still had his cocksure swagger and the inability to keep his opinion to himself, but now when Jason saw him during those quiet moments he didn’t see any conflict or the slight melancholy that sometimes permeated the blonds features when he was deep in thought. Now there was a sense of peace and, dare he say it, happiness going off of the slight upturn of his lips when he would look off into the distance. Clay actually seemed excited to be going home. 

The reason behind it became all too obvious soon after the changes took hold.

Jason wasn’t sure if Clay noticed the glares and scowls shot his way or the pointed glances when the subject of Emma came up. He wasn’t sure if Clay noticed what his connection to Emma was altogether. Those non-reactions could only mean that whatever was going on wasn’t exactly romantic in nature. 

Yet.

The two may not be a couple, but Jason felt like he was having to get used to the idea anyways. If that meant making Spenser run more hills than usual, well...at least it wasn't a ghost plane to Yemen.

Regardless of what anyone said or didn’t say, Clay and Emma continued their exploits all over Virginia Beach. 

All the generic hang-out activities of bowling, movies and outings to the mall were quickly marked off. They’d moved on to teaming up during game nights where they proved to be a formidable team and trips to the botanical garden, roaming the rows of bright blooms and greenhouses filled with tropical flora. To Emma’s delight, they hosted origami classes on the day of their visit. Despite his initial protests, Clay’s focus was intent as he crafted his butterfly, smoothing the creases into sharp edges and twisting and turning the folds with careful precision before placing it next to his kusudama flower and moving on to the next project. She was endeared by the picture Clay messaged her of those efforts sitting on his bookshelf next to his cherished first editions. 

They alternated who picked their destinations, though Clay still had to use a bit of begging and cajoling to get Emma to agree to an indoor rock climbing excursion. A race to the top resulted in a lost bet for him when she proved to be both nimble and fast on the wall. When it came time for him to pony up the next night, Emma was the one to take the wheel, refusing to tell him where they were going until they pulled into the parking lot of her chosen location.

The Virginia Dare to Sing Karaoke Bar. 

Clay griped all the way from the car to their table when Emma informed him he would be added to the nights set list. She took in the settings around her as Clay went to check in with the DJ before grabbing drinks from the bar. Dim hanging fixtures, twinkle lights and bright neon signs lit up the space. Streamers, balloons and pom poms were dotted along the walls and ceiling giving the impression that a party was about to start. Most of the seats were turned away from the door towards the small stage which hefted the performer a foot off the ground while a large screen played the lyrics behind them. 

Clay came back quickly with their drinks. He pulled his chair to sit next to her with his back against the wall in order to have a view of the entire establishment. Emma didn’t bother commenting on the paranoia - her dad did the same thing. Instead, when she tried to ask what song Clay selected he merely grinned and told her she’d find out with everyone else.

Emma had anticipated at least a  _ little  _ squirming from Clay about going up on stage and singing in front of a bunch of strangers. She should've known better. SEALs don't scare easily. Of all the things they stare down on a regular basis, this wasn’t something to get performance anxiety about. 

When his name was called, Clay downed his beer and made his way to the stage among the courteous applause from the crowd. Emma sat back in her chair and smiled as he grabbed the microphone from the stand and cleared his throat before addressing the crowd. 

“Like some of you, I’m up here because I lost a bet.” Their fellow patrons chuckled and a few nodded in agreement. “So I’d like to dedicate this song to the lovely lady sitting right there,” Clay gestured towards her with the mic, bringing the bars attention to her briefly before continuing, “because she was kind enough to let me pick the song.”

He nodded to the DJ to start before giving the crowd a winning smile. “This is my first time, so please, be gentle.” 

Emma was unfamiliar with the song as the opening chords began, but it quickly became apparent why Clay chose it. 

_ Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble _

_ When you're perfect in every way _

_ I can't wait to look in the mirror _

_ 'Cause I get better lookin' each day _

_ To know me is to love me _

_ I must be a hell of a man _

_ Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble _

_ But I'm doin' the best that I can! _

Emma giggled and laughed with the rest of the crowd. The tempo was steady and didn’t require Clay to dance about in order to match the tone, but he sang the words sincerely, chuckling a bit himself. While not being overly remarkable, she was surprised at how smooth his voice was. Emma had only ever heard the guys sing when they were three sheets to the wind in her dad’s backyard, and it had been off-key and painful to listen to. But he belted out the old country song start to finish without missing a word or a beat. 

She rolled her eyes at the lyrics telling the story of clamoring women and nearly choked on her drink at the word ‘egotistical’ having something to do with how he fills out his skin tight blue jeans. When the song finished, Clay gave a bow to the clapping and catcalls before he made his way back to the table, accepting a high five or two along the way. 

Emma shook her head in disbelief, slow clapping as he re-seated himself at their table with a smug grin.

“Color me impressed, Spenser. That was...not horrible.”

“Can’t give away all my secrets.” He nudged her gently with his elbow. “Better luck next time.”

They spent the rest of their night enjoying the various performances that came after. Some good and some that probably would’ve gotten booed off the stage if it were a competition. They shared a plate of wings and fries and talked about how her diving certification course was going. 

Among the many topics of conversations they had touched on in their time together, travel was one of them. Clay captivated Emma with tales of all the countries he had been able to visit during his time in the Navy, especially as a SEAL. Contrary to what some people might think, not all the places they got sent to were war torn or downtrodden where the nearest person was just as liable to sell you out as to help you. Even the most dangerous places have a touch of beauty.

Clay had been ruminating over what to get Emma for her birthday, not wanting to be too impersonal or overstep the mark. So when she mentioned that among the various destinations she wanted to visit and things she wanted to do, diving over colorful, vibrant reefs and exploring marine life was high on her list. A lightbulb went off. 

He called in a favor with his buddy, Frank, a former member of Charlie before he medically retired that Clay had met back during BUD/S. While his time on the teams came to an end, Frank stayed in Virginia Beach after completing his commitment and worked at the local dive center leading trips and teaching certification classes. With his help, Clay was able to easily secure a voucher for Emma and gifted it to her a couple weeks before her birthday.

Jason assured him that both of his kids were strong swimmers. Adding that to the little bit of previous experience she had, Clay wasn’t surprised that Emma elected for the accelerated course. She’d have to get through the classroom and pool portions by herself, but thanks to Frank, Clay would be able to join her on her last round of check-out dives the weekend of her birthday.

“We practiced losing and recovering our regs and breathing without our masks.” Emma explained as she dipped her celery in blue cheese. “Barry’s still stuck on clearing a partial fill.”

“This is the same guy who yelled at Frank for not saving him fast enough when his equipment sunk him in the deep end?”

“The one who keeps packing on more gear despite what actual professionals are telling him? Yeah.” Emma added dryly and nodded. “I asked Frank if it was hard dealing with regular people after being surrounded by a bunch of overachieving Captain Americas for so long.”

“What did he say to that?” Clay snorted as he grabbed another drumstick, knowing that Emma preferred the wings. 

“He said he didn’t have an issue with normal people, it’s the ones that acted like they were trying to kill them that were the problem.” She smiled. “The instructors have a bet for whether or not he’ll make it through the open water dives. This is his third try for the certification apparently.”

“He’s already failed twice?”

“Technically four times because it took him two attempts to pass the swimming requirements before even starting the class. After that, he failed the quizzes the first time and the next he refused to spend money on legitimate gear rather than the cheap mask and fins he purchased at Walmart.”

“Does he not know this is all meant to keep him alive?” Clay huffed.

“He said he knew the instructors were just trying to get him to spend money in the dive shop. He doesn’t realize that they don’t work on commission and that they’re making more money on the non-refundable payments he makes on the classes.”

Clay chuckles and shakes his head before taking a sip of beer to clear his throat. “Are you nervous about the final checks this weekend?”

“No.” She shrugs matter-of-factly. 

“Feeling pretty confident?” He grins.

“Just a little.” Emma admitted with a teasing smile while she wiped her hands with her napkin. 

She smoothed the material out before putting it back down on the table next to her plate and looking back at him with complete and sincere trust. “But I also know that if anything happens you’ll be right there to make sure I’m safe.”

Clay felt almost breathless in that moment, knowing how much faith Emma placed in him. That she didn’t doubt for a second that she’d make it through this okay because he would be there to protect her was both humbling and empowering. 

He reached over to cover her hand with his own, his eyes locked on hers. 

“Always.”

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

The morning of Emma’s final open water dive checks, she and Clay pulled up to the pier with all their gear ready to go. The dive boat was fairly spacious with two separate levels. A dive deck perfect for stowing gear and prepping equipment as well as a sun deck on top for divers to rest and relax after their trips. It also came equipped with a shower and two separate bathrooms, making it ideal for a long day at sea.

Frank greeted them excitedly, clapping Clay on the shoulder as he ushered them on the boat and helped them check their tanks and regulators. The rest of the class trickled in slowly, the other instructors helping them through the same process. 

“One of your classmates called out this morning. That puts us at odd numbers with pairs, so it looks like Spenser gets to be your official swim buddy today.” Frank explained as they stowed their masks, wetsuit, fins and dive bags underneath their bench. 

“Lucky you, too. This guy’s practically part fish. Back in BUD/S the rest of us are blacking out and gasping for air but not Aquaman here.” He punched Clay in the shoulder with a chuckle. “Naw, he’s cool as a cucumber, just breezing through pool comp. Pissed off the instructors too.”

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?” Emma asked. As far as she knew, training was its own hell. It was more of a weeding out process than a competition so it was natural that some would be more proficient than others. It didn’t seem like something that should incite anger. 

“Yeah.” Frank shrugged. “But when you end up being Ash Spenser’s kid, that puts you at the top of the shitlist. Then they really try to break you.”

Emma looked to Clay for confirmation but he seemed focused solely on stacking his equipment neatly, the muscle in his jaw jumping. She’d never paid much heed to the rumors about Clay but she had heard them all the same. 

She knew how hard it was to change a SEAL’s mind once they got an idea stuck in their head. The machismo was alive and well so ribbing and trash talk wasn’t unusual. But it never occurred to her just how deeply those prejudices could root and that they’d result in anyone even remotely associated with the guilty party being punished themselves. 

When Jason was first looking at new green team candidates for Bravo, she had heard Clay’s name come up many times. It seemed to be synonymous with “SEAL royalty”, “Another fucking Spenser”, and “cocky little shit”. That last one seemed to stick more out of fond exasperation than legitimate irritation. She knew that once Jason stopped swimming in denial and accepted that Clay was the best choice for Bravo, everything else having to do with his father and whatever trouble he’d caused fell away. 

It was the turnout that Clay always hoped for. Happy as it was though, it didn’t change that while others may have been raked across the coals to make it where they stood, Clay had to crawl through fire.

“Alright guys, you’re all set!” Frank smiled when they finished stowing their equipment. “Feel free to chill up on the sun deck while we get everyone squared away. I’ll call you down for the briefing when we push off.”

He left Emma and Clay to themselves as he moved to help another student check their tanks. Tugging on the sleeve of his t-shirt, she led them up the tight spiral staircase to the top deck. The floor was covered in a cushioned mat, making laying out on towels more comfortable. The two seated themselves on the padding just in front of the railing and let their legs hang over the side. The sun was already peaking over the horizon as they sat quietly on the gently rocking boat. 

Seeing that unpleasant memories had been kicked up during their conversation, Emma scooted closer to Clay and hugged the arm nearest to her. 

“You okay?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah.” Clay sighed as his eyes scanned the horizon. “It just...It feels like another life sometimes.”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Emma pressed her cheek against his shoulder, her hand smoothing down his forearm.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Em.” He answered immediately not wanting her to think he was angry. Clay pursed his lips, brow wrinkling as he tried to think of a way to explain. His line of work was never particularly kind on anyone, beginning to end, but his experience had been more than the pain and discomfort that was meant to break candidates.

He took a minute to think before starting hesitantly. 

“Ash’s book pissed off a lot of people. The first one was well before I even enlisted. It wasn’t until I got my contract and my spot in BUD/S that I realized how deep the grudge went.” His eyes drifted to the side as he thought back to those first couple years. “Prep school was okay but the second I got off the bus in Coronado I  _ knew _ the beat down was coming. Especially because Ash released his second book not long after. Didn’t matter that I had nothing to do with it.”

“You paid for it anyways.” Emma surmised quietly.

“I did.” He nodded. “I thought about quitting a couple of times. I couldn’t decide if all of it would be worth it if I could never get away from what my father did, betraying the brotherhood.”

“What made up your mind?”

“Frank, actually.” Clay snorted. “We were in recovery after hell week. I was chafing so bad my skin felt like hamburger meat and he was laid up because he was covered in infected hair follicles. We felt like shit but we were practically walking on air because we made it through.” The corners of his lips twitched up. “So I’m trying to find any position that didn’t aggravate my rashes and Frank’s laying in his bunk covered in antibiotic ointment with ice packs piled on his shins and he looks at me and he says, ‘Spenser, you keep going the way you are and you’ll end up leavin’ your old man in the dust.’”

A beat of silence passed as Clay remembered how much that statement helped to shape his outlook and his future.

“I wanted that more than anything.” He shook his head. “ That was all the drive I needed to push through everything else. It got better after a while when I got to the teams but Ash would pop up in the news or on the radio and I’d start getting these looks all over again. Like I was the leak behind all of it.”

“You wouldn’t do that though.” Emma insisted. 

“But I’m his son.” Clay reasoned. “That’s cause enough for doubt.”

She closed her eyes tight and turned her head, pressing further into his side. Emma buried her nose in the soft material of the shirt covering Clay’s bicep and tried to focus on his scent mixed with the saltiness of the ocean air, swallowing the small lump that formed in her throat. She’d been surrounded by SEAL’s her entire life. The brotherhood was everything to them. She hated the thought of him having to scramble and scrape for acceptance because of something that wasn’t even his fault. Even more so that he learned to expect the bare minimum from the men who were supposed to watch his back.

Clay was one of the best people she’d ever met. He didn’t deserve to pay for the sins of his father.

No one did.

He reached for the hand clutching his forearm and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Don’t get upset, Em. It wasn’t all bad. I did manage to make a few friends, as you can tell.” He jerked his head, motioning to the small staircase that led down to the deck where Frank was. “Once I made Bravo, when the team became family, I left all that in the rearview.”

“Just like that?”

“Like I said,” He shrugged. “Feels like another life.”

Emma nodded slowly, meeting his blue eyes and holding their gaze. 

“I'm glad.” She murmured. “You belong here, with us.”

Clay wanted nothing more in that moment than to wrap his arms around her and pull her in even closer if that were possible. He didn’t realize he was starting to lean in until his attention was torn away from her by a clicking and whirring sound. Turning to the stairwell, he could see a smiling Frank with his head popped just above the deck.

“We’re about to head out. Time to come down for the rundown and we’ll get everyone suited up when we hit the first dive site.”

Clay gave a jerky nod, hopping up from the floor and offering Emma his hand. She pulled herself up, cheeks lightly flushed and the two made their way down, taking their seats on the bench. As they listened to the briefing, Emma parted her hair down the middle and braided them into two pigtails for ease of keeping her mask in place. 

When they arrived at the first site everyone was instructed to put on their wetsuits. Both of them stripped down quickly, doing their best to ignore the newly revealed skin. The lingering tension was broken somewhat by Emma giggling as Clay muttered about the skin tight material always feeling like putting on a giant condom. 

The class set about harnessing their tanks to the BCD’s and connecting their regulators. Once their equipment was prepared, the instructors had them jump off the low platform in pairs. When their turn came they made their way to the stern and shouldered their gear. Emma looked out over the vast expanse of water as Clay checked her straps. She didn’t look overly nervous, but this was still a new experience. A little trepidation was to be expected.

“Still okay?” He inquired, pulling her waist strap a bit tighter.

Emma nodded, turning her attention back to Clay as he finished and smiling. Tank and fins on, the two stood at the edge of the deck while Frank bobbed in the water a few yards out waiting for them at the dive line.

He looked at her as they were about to lower their masks.

“Remember, no matter what happens we’ll be with you the whole time.”

“I know.”

“And one last thing.” He rolled his eyes. “I was explicitly instructed by Sonny to tell you that if you see a shark dart towards you, which is unlikely in these waters, you rear back and-”

“Punch it in the snout as hard as I can.” Emma nodded, having gotten the same lecture from Sonny every time they stepped foot in the surf at family beach gatherings. 

Clay chuckled and shook his head.

“Alright, let’s go.” He smiled. With that they donned their masks and breathing regulators and took that last step forward, dropping into the salty ocean water.

It was a little disconcerting at first. Diving in the confines of a pool was much different than the seemingly infinite expanse she was now surrounded by. She gave a small shiver as the cool sea water began to seep into her wetsuit but once her body heat warmed the thin layer of liquid she didn’t feel much of the cold at all.

When all divers were down, they followed their instructors command and performed buoyancy checks to make sure they didn’t go crashing to the bottom from the weight of their equipment or runaway ascents that would pull them to the surface. Emma and Clay followed in a straight line behind Frank as they swam parallel to the bottom, circling a small clump of boulders and swimming back and forth between check points marked on rocks that helped to maintain a perimeter. 

It was straightforward and easy, letting the divers get used to the feel of the water and using their fins. There was a sense of triumph among her and her classmates. Conquering their first dive was like opening a door that felt shut until that moment. Though Frank and the other instructors cautioned that there were still things they needed to run through and corrections to be made to their performance, just stepping into the water felt like an achievement. 

The next site went a little deeper than the last and consisted of practicing their drills of clearing their masks, recovering their regulators, removing cramps and simulating tired diver tows. 

Their third site was much the same, practicing different skills and being tested by the instructors. While a couple of people struggled, the trip seemed to be a success as a whole. 

Their fourth and final dive site for  certification was a small wreck nearly tilted on its side and surrounded by a variety of sea life. Emma loved the weightlessness and marveled at the new environment as she finally felt relaxed enough to take in the view around her. Small schools of fish floated around the sunken boat, mussels and sponges dotted in clumps along the hull and little crabs skittered along the ocean floor. She even spied a couple of sea turtles to her utter delight. And all of it was lit up by streaks of sunlight shining through the surface. 

Looking over at Clay, she admired his form as he moved smoothly through the water, navigating around the path set out for them. It was expected that he wouldn’t feel the need to bend his knees the way the rest of them were still trying to avoid doing or kick as hard to propel himself forward. The sheer, practiced power in his body enabled him to move more water in the motions of his fins. It made it seem as if he were gliding effortlessly through the water while keeping a sedate pace that felt like flying to the rest of them. 

Noticing her attention on him, Clay waved and gave her two thumbs up. Emma would’ve smiled if it didn’t mean losing her regulator but instead returned the gesture enthusiastically. 

When all the divers returned to the boat and finished stowing their equipment, the instructors encouraged them to give each other a round of applause, congratulating them and saluting their accomplishments with cold bottles of water. They took turns washing off some of the sea salt before spreading out on the sun decks and benches for the ride back to port.

Emma leaned once more into his shoulder, her eyes closed with a tired smile. 

“Did you like it?” Clay asked in a low voice.

“I loved it.” She nuzzled her cheek into his shoulder. 

Clay slung his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Happy Birthday, Em.”

When the boat came to a stop and was tied off at the dock, her class disembarked slowly. They lingered until the last person filed off, hanging back so they could speak with Frank. 

“You did a great job!” He greeted them with a smile. “We’ll have to wait until the last class on Tuesday to give you your final evaluations but I think I can safely say that you passed.”

“Thank you!” Emma beamed. “I can’t wait!”

They chatted for a few minutes before Emma excused herself to call her dad and let him know they were about to be on their way to his house for her birthday party the team always threw for her. Some years they didn’t get to be home on the day of, but they always made sure to carve out time to celebrate the occasion so no one felt they were missing out. 

“I got something I thought you might want.” Frank's voice pulled Clay’s attention from Emma’s retreating form. He pulled a stack of Polaroids from a bag and flipped through the photos for the one he was looking for.

“Debbie likes to document the dives with her Nikon. Says it makes for a nice keepsake for the customers. Hers are more professional but I still like to dick around with my Polaroid every once in a while.”

Frank removed a photo from his collection and handed it to him with a smirk. It was Clay and Emma on the sundeck that morning. The sunrise behind them almost created a silhouette but he could clearly make out the look on his face as he gazed down at Emma.

He looked like he was about to kiss her.

“You might want to hold on to that.” Frank smirked. “And the girl too.”

Clay was speechless for a moment, not knowing what to say. Frank cocked his eyebrow as if waiting for him to deny it but Clay...didn’t want to. He nodded, shaking Frank’s hand with promises to meet up soon for drinks. He pocketed the picture and took his dive bag to the car where Emma waited for him. He dropped it into the open trunk and made for the drivers side door. 

“Ready?” Emma chimed with a grin from the other side of the car. He took in her riotous blonde locks and the lightly sun-kissed skin of her cheeks, tapping the picture in his pocket. 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another disclaimer: I’ve never been diving but hopefully google has helped me sound like I know what I’m talking about. Made a few creative changes to fit my timeline and straight up made up others but that’s what fanfic is for.
> 
> Please drop me a review if you’ve got any feedback, good or bad, and a kudos if you liked it. Thanks for reading!


End file.
